


are you there chloe? it's me, god.

by light_loves_the_dark



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: A Random Assortment of Angels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Behavior, Angels, Angels aren't The Worst, BAMF Chloe Decker, But Chloe Still Kicks Their Butts, Chloe Decker Finds Out, Chloe KNOWS, Chloe and Lucifer actually Talk, Chloe turns down Cain's Proposal, F/M, Fluff, Gen, God is Meddling, God's A+ Parenting, Humor, Love Confessions, Marcus Pierce Being an Asshole, Pining, Protective Chloe Decker, Protective Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Weird Angel Stuff, probably blasphemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_loves_the_dark/pseuds/light_loves_the_dark
Summary: The man leans back, still smiling. “I have been waiting for you to pray to me for a long time, Chloe Decker.”Chloe trembles. “No,” she breathes. “That’s impossible…” but even as she says it, she knows there is something about this man that is otherworldly and strange, yet peaceful. She feels a sort of serenity she doesn’t want to when she looks at him.He shakes his head at her fondly, patting the cushion next to him. She makes no move towards him, still frozen, and dammit, where did she put her gun? “I assure you,” he begins, “it’s quite possible. Your partner is an archangel, my dear, and his father is sitting before you.”akathe one where god, after eons of silence, starts asking advice from a mere mortal, and chloe’s apartment becomes a nest for all the angels of the lord, and oh god, how is she gonna keep this from lucifer-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first lucifer fic!! which basically means it's an explosion of my emotions about the show and probably makes no cohesive sense, and it definitely half complete crack and half emotional realness, but i hope you enjoy it regardless.
> 
> this takes place after 3.20, and goes AU after that. pierce still breaks up with chloe, and lucifer still beats him up. also maze’s anger with chloe in s3 never made much sense to me, so just assume she’s cool with everyone except lucifer. 
> 
> title from the children's book: 'are you there god? it's me, margaret.' because i have no self control.
> 
> this will probably have 3 chapters, and it's almost fully written so quick updates hopefully!

Chloe has never prayed before in her life. Not really. 

Sure, she might’ve sent one or two thoughts that way when Trixie was a breech baby and she was terrified she’d never meet her daughter, or when Malclm shot Lucifer and she was convinced he had died protecting her family. Those prayers had been formed almost entirely on desperation and a willingness to exhaust any option to save the people she loves. She’s never _ meant _ it. Not as a kid, not in a church, not even at her father’s funeral. Not really. 

Which is why, when Lucifer takes one look at her and stalks out her door after Pierce breaks her heart, the urge to pray takes her by surprise. 

The look in his eye is feral and his steps are measured and deadly. A familiar wild anger surrounds him like an ominous cloud, the one that always overtakes him when his friends are threatened. Even Trixie, who is now snuggled tightly in her arms, had watched her partner nervously, with an understanding beyond her mere ten years, as he had barely looked at either of them before going to confront her ex-boyfriend.

Because that’s where he’s going. There is no doubt in her mind that the man who let her down so brutally will show up to work on Monday with more bruises than he left her home with tonight. That knowledge fills her with a horror and satisfaction that she is too numb to truly feel. 

Maze comes home only minutes after Lucifer leaves, taking Trixie from her arms and telling her to pack a bag for her dad’s. She doesn’t say anything about how dead Pierce is, but Chloe can see a rage that matches Lucifer’s in her eyes. There is a guilt there too, and if she was more lucid she’d wonder about that. A Maze that isn’t spewing angry threats is confusing to Chloe, but she knows that sometimes, true anger can cause speechlessness. 

Just like a broken heart stops any words from leaving Chloe’s own lips.

Maze hesitantly presses a hand to her shoulder when Trixie bounds down the stairs, telling her that Linda will be over in an hour and that Maze herself is coming back after dropping Trixie off. Chloe hears her, but it’s like she is underwater, so she just nods, hugs Trixie when her daughter hugs her tightly, and only allows her tears to fall when the door shuts behind them. 

Letting her head fall loosely on the back of the couch, she shuts her eyes. _ Don’t let Lucifer kill him, _ she thinks, not sure if the thought will go to someone or just float around in her head. _ I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork. _

“My Samael doesn’t always seem to have self-control, but I promise you, it does exist in there somewhere.” 

Chloe’s eyes flash open, and she jumps to her feet. “Who’s there?” She yells, voice hoarse from tears as she searches out the intruder. “Show yourself!”

The voice chuckles. “I’m right here, my daughter.”

Chloe whips around to find a dark-skinned, middle-aged man wearing jeans and a t-shirt sitting in the same place that she had been only moments ago. His posture is perfect, but he still looks quite comfortable, relaxing in a place where he hadn’t been two seconds ago. He looks somehow familiar, like someone she’s seen in a movie she watched years ago, like her favorite actor from her childhood whose name is long lost to her. She has so many questions that she’s frozen, and she can only gape at him. “How…?”

The man ignores her question, smiling up at her with his eyes twinkling. “Well, not _ right _ here. In fact, I am everywhere. But I know you mortals prefer to have something to look at when you are in conversation, so here I am.”

Chloe shakes her head to rid herself of the sheer confusion she feels, looking around for her gun. _ There’s an intruder in your house, Decker. Focus. _“How’d you get in here?” She asks, backing away.

The man leans back, still smiling. “I have been waiting for you to pray to me for a long time, Chloe Decker.”

Chloe trembles. “No,” she breathes. “That’s impossible…” but even as she says it, she knows there is something about this man that is otherworldly and strange, yet peaceful. She feels a sort of serenity she doesn’t want to when she looks at him. 

He shakes his head at her fondly, patting the cushion next to him. She makes no move towards him, still frozen, and _ dammit, where did she put her gun? _“I assure you,” he begins, “it’s quite possible. Your partner is an archangel, my dear, and his father is sitting before you. Quite unprecedented, actually. This is a rarity - a new experience for me as well.” 

Chloe’s eyes dart around, searching for some advantage against the insane man sitting on her couch. He doesn’t look strong, but the power and threat he poses itches her skin. “You’re crazy,” she says flatly. “And I’m really not having the best time of it right now, so I’m only going to say this once: get out of my house.”

The man sighs, getting to his feet. “I suspected you would doubt me, as you do my son,” he says, rolling his shoulders back as he stands. “Very well. If it is proof you need, then it is proof you will have.”

A light fills the room. A Divine Light. A Light that burns Chloe’s eyes and fills her with awe and terror and an ancient sort of peace. 

Seconds later, she hits the ground in a dead faint. 

-

“Daughter? Are you well?”

Chloe groans, bringing her hands to her aching head. She dislodges a throw blanket on the way up, and she recognizes it as the one that she keeps on her bed. Did she go and get it after Maze and Trixie left? No, there was something - _ someone _ else, a man, a Light.

Chloe sits up abruptly, staring at the being who hovers next to her. It’s him. _ No _ , her brain pushes back against her common sense, _ it’s Him _.

“It’s all true,” she breathes. She can’t even hear herself speak; her brain is numb. Images race across her mind like a movie on fast forward. Everything she’s ever told herself about the world is _ wrong. _She’s wrong.

God - _ God _ \- nods. “Quite,” He replies, patting her shoulder in a fatherly manner. “I apologize for the headache, my dear, but otherwise, I fear you would have resisted the truth.”

“It’s all true,” she repeats. _ It’s all true. God and Heaven and Hell - and oh God, is Lucifer-? _

“Yes,” God answers, because of course He does; He’s omniscient. He can hear her thoughts. “My Samael - your Lucifer - is the entity you know as the Devil.”

“Lucifer…” she breathes, unsure if she is calling to him or merely putting his name and _ his name _on top of each other for the first time. Regardless, the epithet tastes strange on her tongue.

God gives her several minutes of silent consideration before He continues: “I am sorry,” He begins gently, “to not allow you more time to process what you have just learned. But we must speak before your visitors arrive.”

Chloe nods, pulling herself together. She holds tightly to the throw blanket to stop her hands from shaking. “Okay… okay, I’m sorry-”

“I do not need your apologies, Daughter. I need you to listen.” Chloe nods again, attempting to focus on His words. “I require your expertise.” 

A hysterical giggle bubbles up in Chloe’s throat, but she shoves it down. If she hadn’t seen the Light, she would be convinced that she was being pranked. God, asking her advice? What does she know that He doesn’t? “Go on,” she manages.

God watches her flounder with a soft expression on His face. “You are a mother,” He observes. “A very good one. What do you do when your child is disobedient?”

“Not cast them out of Heaven,” she replies, an unexpected bitterness rising in her before she can think. Her eyes widen when she remembers who she is speaking to, and her hands clap over her mouth. “I- I’m sorry. That was-”

God sighs. “I do not speak of Samael,” He says slowly, as if she’s an idiot for assuming He came to talk to her about the one child of His she actually knows, and wait, _ Amenadiel - he’s an angel too. what the fuck- _“I suspect your advice would be biased. No, I speak of another child, who thought he was doing what I wanted but instead, acted out of selfish desire.”

Chloe swallows, opening her mouth to respond when God stops her. “No, Daughter, think. I require your well-considered honesty.”

Chloe nods, trying to ignore the fact that God is in her living room and her partner is the Devil, and wait - does this mean Lucifer was telling the truth when he said Marcus is Cain from the Bible…? 

“My son was right to warn you,” God says, serious and deep, reading her thoughts with an ease that immediately leads her to wonder whether privacy even exists. Is everything she is an open book to Him? Is anything about her free? Her breathing speeds up, but He pulls her out of her downward spiral with a command: “Now, Detective,_ think _.”

Deep breath. Exhale. Think. She can do that. “I guess,” Chloe says several minutes later, when she’s gotten ahold of herself, “I can’t expect Trixie to know what I’m thinking if I don’t tell her. I would have a hard time punishing her for something she was doing to make me proud, but I would also tell her that it’s important to develop your own moral compass. She should learn to know that things are right not because I want them, or she wants them, but because they’re just… right.”

God studies her, His expression contemplative. “Free will,” he muses, like He’s thinking about a pet of His that He loves but He’s considering putting down. “That’s quite a radical solution, Daughter. But I did ask, so I will give it some thought.” He looks back at her. “In the interim, I will send My child to you. He will know that your words are to be taken as My law.” He presses a warm hand over her palm, and Chloe is so shocked that God is _ touching _her that His words don’t sink in right away.

But they do a couple of seconds later as He stands to go. “Wait-” she tries, mind working furiously as millions of questions bubble up in her mind. “Wait,” she repeats, “Can you-?”

“Our paths will cross again soon, Daughter,” He interrupts her. “Until then, fare you well.” 

He blinks out of existence just in time; her front door swings open as Chloe stares at the space where He was. Where _ God _ was. Or where God is, she supposes; if he's omniscient, he's everywhere at once, right?

Ugh, she should've taken that philosophy elective in college.

“Pierce is an asshole,” Maze announces, not even looking at Chloe as she throws herself on the couch. Linda follows with a bottle of whiskey that Chloe recognizes from the top shelf of Lucifer’s personal bar. “I’m gonna kill him, but first, we’re gonna get you super drunk.”

As Maze takes a swig out of the bottle, forgoing a glass and telling Chloe exactly how drunk they’re going to get tonight, Linda studies her friend carefully. “Are you okay, Chlo?”

Chloe smiles tightly at her friend. Does Linda know? She’s Lucifer’s therapist. Would Lucifer tell his therapist? Well, she thinks, he tells everyone. Would Linda believe him? “Yeah. Fine,” she replies, distracted.

Linda nods knowingly. “Well, the Lieutenant doesn’t know what he’s missing,” she says. “You’re better off without him.”

Chloe blinks. She had almost forgotten how badly she had been dumped tonight. It doesn’t seem to be that important after being the first mortal to be visited by the Creator of the Universe. “Yup,” she manages. “Now, give me that bottle.”

She’ll process tomorrow. For now, she wants to get, as Maze called it,_ super drunk _. 

-

Lucifer doesn’t come over Saturday or Sunday, giving Chloe exactly two days to process that she’s been in love with the Devil for the past year before she has to see him at work. Again, it doesn’t seem that monumental after having God grace her living room. 

Sunday night, she gets a visitor. 

“Father?” A man - nope, an angel, Chloe realizes as she spots the massive wings that take up half her kitchen - calls after he appears in a gust of wind. He has dark hair, dressed in white robes that look like they were made of clouds. His eyes are a dark brown, like Lucifer's, but there is a striking innocence in his expression that's she's never seen on anyone's face, not even a child's. “Father?” He repeats, clearly hopeful, before he spots her in the corner gaping at him. “Oh,” he says dumbly, taking her in. “A mortal.” He sounds as if he is in awe, which makes Chloe want to laugh. A celestial being, in awe of her. “Am I on the Earthly plane?” The angel asks. “Have your eyes beheld a Light, child?”

“Yeah, and kind of,” she says finally, keeping a steady distance of at least five feet between them. “Who are you?”

“I am Haniel,” the angel announces, his back growing broader and his chin lifting as he smiles serenely in her direction. “And I am the first angel my Father will speak to in eons.”

Chloe winces at the angel’s pride. “Yeah, he’s not here,” Chloe blurts out. “Um, did you happen to do something that you thought he would approve of recently?” She asks, thinking back to her conversation with Him.

Haniel stands straighter, puffing out his chest. “I did, mortal. How did you know?”

Chloe just looks at him, swallowing before she delivers the bad news. “Yeah, so, He might’ve told me to tell you to stop?” _ What had He been thinking, making her do this? _ “Um, he doesn’t approve of what you did. Whatever it was.”

Haniel’s eyes light up white with anger, and Chloe takes a step back in fear, throwing up her arms in a defensive posture. “How dare you presume...” he hisses, before his eyes alight on the hands she holds out in front of her. “What? How?” He stops, staring at her before suddenly dropping to his knees.

“Forgive me, Father,” he breathes. “If this mortal is how you speak, I will listen.” Chloe can only stare at the divine being kneeling before her, and she has to push down the atavistic revulsion, the instinct telling her that no angel was ever met to prostrate himself before a human. She’s not devout - she’s barely religious, despite confirmation of the existence of God, but no intellectual thought removes her base intuition. So she asks him to stand, and he obeys without question, which is almost worse. “What glorious news have you to bestow upon me?” he asks, and it takes her a second to figure out what he’s talking about, but first:

“Wait,” she says, eyes narrowing, “so we’re okay?” He was furious with her mere seconds ago, and now he acts like she could smite him. Which she definitely can’t. Can she? 

Haniel looks sheepish, and it is strangely relieving to see the expression on his face. It’s the first time he hasn’t looked like a terrible, celestial being that could kill her any second, and the tension in her body drains slightly. “You bear my Father’s mark, mortal-” he begins, gesturing to her arm. 

“Chloe,” she interrupts.

“Chloe,” Haniel agrees. “So I will hear and consider whatever you have to say to me.”

She flips her hands to study her palms, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. “What mark?” She asks.

Haniel nods. “It makes sense you cannot see it - primordial as it is. Though you are Chosen by my Father, you are still but a mortal, and it could very well send you mad.” 

Chloe takes a deep breath. “Okay, I need to sit down,” she announces, moving for the couch, hoping the angel follows her without asking too many questions. “Let me get this straight,” she says once they have settled into their seats, her on the loveseat and him on the couch. “After visiting me and putting some weird celestial tattoo on my hand - without my consent, mind you - your Father somehow told you to come here, and you think there’s something I can tell you that you don’t already know after, I’m guessing, thousands of years of life?”

For the first time, Haniel actually looks amused, and she can’t decide if she wants to slap him or just be happy she got an angel with some sort of sense of humor. “Yes, Chloe. You are correct.”

Chloe just blinks at him before crossing her arms over her chest. “Well,” she sighs. “I’m guessing that it’s not going to go over well if I kick an angel out of my house, even though I haven’t slept in two days.” She neglects to mention that as the fault of Haniel’s Father, but she assumes he can venture a good guess. “So, let’s do this. What’s on your mind?”

Chloe and the angel stay up late into the night. She had been worried initially that God had decided to make her some sort of angel therapist, but surprisingly, her instincts as a cop and a mother seem to be the most relevant tools she needs. She listens to him haltingly tell the tale of his actions, and in return, she warns him about pride and greed, about what they feel like, and how to know when they are affecting a decision rather than justice and rightness. It’s a bit - okay it’s a lot - like talking to Trixie. The angel listens and asks questions as she describes pride to him, promising that he will take her words to heart. When he gets up to leave, he turns to her. 

“Is it okay - if I have doubts - might I return and ask your advice again, Chloe?”

Chloe nods. Her life is already so strange that she feels like she is having an out of body experience at this point. What difference could occasional angel visits make? “Sure, Haniel.” 

The angel squeezes her hands, bowing slightly before disappearing in the same gust of wind on which he came. Chloe drops onto the couch, rubbing her eyes.

At least there is no possible way this could get any stranger, she thinks desperately. 

-

Oh, how wrong she was. 

It gets a lot stranger. 

When she goes into work on Monday, Pierce - _ Cain, her brain hisses _\- tries everything he can to get her to forgive him. She avoids him like the plague - Lucifer too, whose identity she hasn’t quite come to terms with. She clings to Ella and Dan, who she prays are normal humans, ignoring Lucifer and Cain’s frantic attempts to one up each other.

Thursday night, Haniel arrives back at her doorstep with one of his sisters.

“We come bearing gifts, Chloe,” Haniel announces as he strides through her door like he owns the place. His sister follows after him, clearly curious, her long blonde hair cascading to the small of her back in golden curls. She looks like she had just stepped out of a painting of Venus, and Chloe spares an errant thought wondering how Lucifer can be attracted to any human if this is the perfection he was born to. “Cassiel did not believe me when I told her about you; would you show her Father’s mark?” 

Chloe blinks at their brilliant wings, still adjusting, before shaking herself loose of their awe-inducing power. “Yeah, sure, come in guys. Trixie’s asleep upstairs though, so please keep it down.” She presents her palm to Cassiel, who gazes at it in wonder.

“You have spoken to our Father,” she breathes. “What did He say?”

Chloe snorts. “Not much, to be honest.”

Haniel holds up a sparkling vase, handing it to her with a deference that takes her breath away. It feels like an important exchange, though she’s not sure what it means. “For your home,” he says gravely, informing her that his talent is glass-work, and that he dearly hopes she finds his work beautiful.

“Thanks,” Chloe says awkwardly. “But I don’t need any gifts - you can come by without them.”

Cassiel exchanges a look with her brother. “You are honored by our Father, and you honor us with your precious time. Angels like to give precious items to precious souls.”

“Okay,” Chloe says, head spinning. “Okay,” she repeats. “Did you want to talk, then?”

Cassiel nods eagerly. “Yes! Tell us of your mortal justice system. How does it function?”

Chloe sighs, thinks _ God, give me strength _before realizing He can actually hear her, and leans forward. “Okay, so I work as a detective...”

Two hours later, Pierce appears at her door with a ring, and after quickly ushering the angels into her bedroom and demanding they stay quiet, she turns him down as gently as she can. Not because she really gives a shit about his feelings, but he’s a volatile man that she doesn’t really want to anger with her daughter asleep upstairs and two angels eavesdropping from the hallway.

“Who was that?” Cassiel asks once she has shooed him back out the door. Both angels look concerned, and she wonders if they can sense something she can’t.

Chloe hesitates before deciding that she might as well tell them. The more people - or celestials - that know who her ex-boyfriend is, the more they can all keep an eye on him. “That’s my ex, Marcus Pierce, but your Dad told me that he’s Cain. Like, _ Cain and Abel _Cain.”

“The first murderer,” Haniel hisses, eyes narrowing on the door as if he can see through it. And honestly, who knows? Maybe he can. “Why is he here, Chloe?”

She shrugs. “Well, he was here because he was trying to propose-” more angelic hissing, and Chloe thinks half-hysterically that Lucifer’s siblings are unknowingly looking out on his behalf, if his excessively extravagant behavior in the past few days is any indication of his feelings - “but here in LA? I’m not sure,” she admits. “I just want to keep him away from Trixie.”

Cassiel and Haniel look at each other, then back to her. “We will keep a wary eye on both your offspring and Cain,” Cassiel says, and Haniel nods in agreement. “You will not come to any harm.”

Chloe waves a hand at them, half thankful and half overwhelmed. “You sound like Lucifer,” she says without thinking, trying to contain the fond smile that threatens to spread across her face.

Both the angels start in surprise. “Samael?” They breathe in unison.

Chloe nods, wondering if she should have mentioned their brother at all. God hadn’t said anything against it, barely speaking of Lucifer. She hadn’t knowingly kept her connection to the Devil from Haniel on his first visit, but if Amenadiel and Lucifer’s general animosity is any indication, he doesn’t have the best relationship with his siblings. In fact, she wonders if many of them have any relationship at all. “Yeah, that’s what your Dad called him too.” 

“You know him?” Cassiel demands, confirming Chloe’s fears. “Amenadiel was sent to take him back to Hell, and he Fell, but without Father’s omniscience we assumed he was back where he belongs.”

“He’s my partner,” Chloe explains. “He is part of the - um - mortal justice system. Wait, you guys know Amenadiel?” Obviously they do, but a subject change would be much appreciated.

“He is our eldest brother,” Haniel says, “and the wisest. So, Samael is… aware of you? Knows you?”

Well, her divergence didn’t work in the least. Chloe tries vehemently to hold back a blush, thinking about the kiss they had shared on the beach months ago. She still dreams about it, even if the memory of it is clouded with pain. “Yes, he’s my friend. End of story.” 

“Has he tempted you, Chloe?” Cassiel asks gravely. “Has he threatened your soul?”

All the sudden, an unfamiliar fury rises in Chloe’s veins. “Did you watch?” She asks, ignoring the question, her hands curling into fists of their own volition. “When he Fell?”

“I was there,” Cassiel says, a glassy look of remembrance overtaking her face, but Haniel shakes his head. “Haniel was unmade.”

Chloe exhales. These angels hardly understand right from wrong, and God had presented them with her as a teacher. _ I hope You know what You’re doing, _ she thinks, unwilling to call the half-threat praying. _ I hope You know how I see Your son. _“Lucifer is a good man,” she tells them, and they listen to her words with nary a breath to distract them. “I’m not sure what he did to deserve what your Dad did to him, but the Lucifer I know is not evil. He’s not the Devil, not to me.”

Haniel and Cassiel don’t respond right away. “We will consider your words, Chloe,” Haniel says eventually. “You have given us much to think on.”

They are gone in an instant, and Chloe lets her head fall in her hands.

She needs to talk to Lucifer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys SO much for the response on the first chapter - it literally blew me away. i'm glad you all found the idea original - i really wanted chloe to be in a position of power regarding secrets and knowledge, which the show never really does (except at the beginning of s4 but that hurts too much to talk about) and really see her struggle with it.
> 
> but yeah, despite the seriousness of that comment, this continues to be a comedic story so please don't take the plot-holes too seriously!! i'm having probably too much fun chronicling chloe's low-key prelude to a mental breakdown.

She needs to speak to Lucifer.

Well, she does. 

That’s what she tells herself, at least, as she continues to keep their relationship strictly confined to work. 

She watches him, though. She watches how he handles suspects, sometimes violently but never with life threatening intent. It only takes a brief jaunt through her memories to realize he’s never killed a suspect, though she shifts uneasily when she thinks of all the people he’s driven mad. She spends a lot of time thinking back to her old criminology courses, about jurisdiction, wondering if the Devil has power in LA to which her paltry human justice system can’t compare.

She dismisses that thought as fast as she can. Her interpretation of justice is not up for questioning here. If she’s going to cling to anything in this celestial storm, it’s that she believes the work they do is right. That the best place for the men that she stops Lucifer from throwing through windows and torturing is behind bars, even if the system isn’t perfect.

If she didn’t have faith in her job right now, she thinks, she’d lose what’s left of her mind. 

Her partner, the nightclub owning Devil, brings her coffee in the morning, exactly how she likes it, smirking at Pierce -  _ Cain, who murdered his brother and is apparently an underground crime lord, and dammit she really needs to figure out what to do about that  _ \- as he perches on the edge of her desk. He hovers over her as they examine evidence, keeping her body protected from the view from the lieutenant's office. She’s never been a damsel in distress, but she likes how he denies her ex from getting even a brief glimpse of her. 

He takes her to lunch and offers to take her to dinner, pouting when she shakes her head and tells him about half-true promises to spend time with Trixie. Her daughter would probably be thrilled to go out to dinner with Lucifer - a fact she keeps to herself out of a primordial fear she hasn’t quite learned to contain. 

But she will. She has to.

As for nights with Trixie, she has a history of giving him invitations to those as well, and she hates to watch his shoulders slump as he realizes no invitation is forthcoming. 

She makes the Devil pout. Who else can say that, she thinks, half-hysterical, as she slowly,  _ slowly  _ warms up to the idea of being in love with the King of Hell. 

She knows Lucifer hates the church so she goes to temples, mosques, and every religious institution between. She goes to exactly one meeting of Satanists, meaning she sees exactly one sacrificial goat, before swearing to never go back. She learns terrible things, but she also learns how for many religions, the Devil is only synonymous with evil because he punishes evil. It is mankind itself who does evil, and she clings to that idea like a buoy in a hurricane. 

Ella manages to get her to attend her church once as well, which seems like a joyous and inclusive place, but she doesn’t like the priest’s responses when she asks him about the Devil. She does not go back.

God finds her in her neighborhood mosque one afternoon; He kneels on the mat next to her, and she tries not to think about the philosophy of that too much. This time, He appears in a grey, three piece suit reminiscent of His son’s preference of clothing. The imam gives them an odd look, but he is used to her coming in at strange times and asking about the Devil, so he leaves her be. 

She actually thinks the kindly old man has a soft spot for her and her weirdly specific, metaphysical questions about Satan. She had been invited to a friendly gathering by his sister, and armed with Trixie by her side, she had attended, figuring she owed him some explanation for the unending gossip she had inspired amongst his worshippers. Instead of the interrogation she had expected, the imam’s sister had plied her with an enormous amount of delicious food and good conversation; they had found a lot of common ground in having young children. Trixie actually has a playdate with the imam’s nine year old niece on Wednesday, and she’s happy that this endless search for information about Lucifer’s nature has begun to result in something good. She hopes there is more to follow. 

“Would you care to go for a walk with me, Daughter?” God whispers in the echoing building. Chloe cringes when the imam sets a finger against his lips. The man does wink at her though, and she smiles back at him before nodding to the being next to her. 

When they are outside, God asks Chloe to sit on the bench. “You are a Miracle,” He announces to her, and Chloe just peers up at Him in confusion. 

“Um, I’m gonna need more than that,” she says.

God nods. “Your parents were not meant to have children. I intervened.”

Chloe thinks about this for a second. “So… that’s something you do?”

God shakes His head. “No, my dear, you were the first Miracle, and you will be the last.” 

Chloe thanks God, rather aptly, that she is seated for this revelation. “But why?” She manages, her heart thumping.  _ A miracle? Can she walk on water? Is she even Chloe Decker?  _

_ Does Lucifer know?  _

For the first time, God looks at her sharply. “It is not in my nature to explain My plan,” He replies stiffly. “And I would thank you not to question Me.” 

It is as if Chloe has blinked and suddenly seen the kind of Being that could throw His son from Heaven. The Fall is something that has occupied her thoughts since God revealed Himself to her - an action that she has been having a lot of trouble associating with the soft-spoken, almost playful Being she has come to know. 

He calms quickly, reading her brief flash of understanding in an instant, and his almost bipolar return to serenity only chips away further at the already fraying trust she has for him. For the first time, she truly wonders what He’s doing here with her. It can’t just be that she’s meant to teach angels about human behavior, she reasons, and her chest tightens with the fear that He’ll use her to get to Lucifer.

“Why would you tell me, then?” She asks, clearly her throat when she realizes she’s speaking in a near whisper. 

God studies her, aware that there has been a great shift between them. “Samael knows,” He says finally, answering her earlier thought. “I thought perhaps you could convince him that My actions are not meant to trap him.”

_ Are they?  _ Chloe thinks, afraid to speak aloud. It doesn’t matter; He still hears her, giving her a sad smile. 

Unable to process being a literal one-of-a-kind miracle, Chloe takes advantage of God bringing up His wayward son to change the subject. “Your children think Lucifer is evil,” she tells him. “You need to fix that; he doesn’t deserve it.”

God looks at her for a moment, studying her like she is a puzzle to unravel, one with the words ‘two hundred pieces’ marked on the box, but deceptively stuffed with two-thousand. Like she is bigger than He had thought. But shouldn’t He know her? He  _ made _ her, after all. “And how would you suggest I fix eons of hatred?”

Chloe shrugs. “Your children love You. They want to please You. Just tell them Lucifer’s off the no-fly list, and maybe he can have some of his siblings back.” 

God nods thoughtfully. “Have you thought anymore about free will?” Chloe asks. She doesn’t mind defending Lucifer to his Father, but she’d like to avoid having the Almighty permanently angry with her. Or smiting her. She really doesn’t desire to be the second grandest Fall of all time. 

“I’ve thought about little else,” He admits, before He winks at her. “Well, now, that is an untruth. See, your human mannerisms are quite catchy! I guarantee you I am thinking about quite a lot, my dear, a burden of omniscience and infallibility.” He claps His hands together, watching her with sparkling eyes that she recognizes from His son. “Now, tell Michael to take Samael off My aptly-named No Fly list. If I do decide to give My children free will, they might as well learn from the child who took it for himself.”

God disappears, and after an appropriate amount of time gaping at the spot He had been, Chloe pulls out her phone.

_ Angel Michael,  _ she googles, clicking on the first article that comes up.

_ It is said that the archangel Michael cast his brother, Lucifer, into Hell at God’s command.  _

And this is when Chloe knows she’s finally okay with all the crazy divine shit that’s been happening for the past month, because instead of panicking, she just rolls her eyes. “Thanks a lot!” she shouts at the sky, and she  _ swears  _ she can hear the echo of God’s laughter raining down around her. 

She walks home, the mosque only about ten minutes from their apartment, texting Maze to take Trixie to the park. 

Sure enough, when she gets home, there’s a gaggle of angels reclining in various places around her living room. 

There are three on the stools, four cosied together on the couch, and many standing and sitting in every discernable spot there is any sort of free space. Each holds something in their hands, soft-looking blankets and glittering rings and necklaces, even one in the corner holding out a bouquet of golden flowers. 

She finds Haniel in the group, who is apparently now comfortable enough to give her a smile with a hint of a smirk. He nods to another angel, who stands at the front of the group, tall and proud.

And if it weren’t for the righteous expression on his face, she would swear that Lucifer himself stood in front of her. They have the same face, the same build, but the way the twin carries himself is almost the exact opposite of Lucifer. They both clearly have an innate confidence, but this one’s pride is golden and pure - like he knows he’s never done the wrong thing in all the ages of the world. 

Chloe admits to herself that she likes Lucifer’s pride much better - a mostly deserved confidence that doesn’t have the same ring of false arrogance that she’s noticed in quite a few of the angels, but none so much as the one that stands before her.

“Chloe Decker,” the angel intones. “I am Michael, the Sword of God. These are my brothers and sisters, who come bearing gifts. Will you welcome us into your home?”

For a brief moment, Chloe thinks about melting into a puddle on the floor at the sheer level of divinity in her home. They couldn’t blame her, right? None of the angels have their wings out, she’s guessing for space reasons, but they all shine with an intrinsic light that is only multiplied by the fact that there are about twenty of them in her tiny apartment. 

“You look just like Lucifer,” she breathes in response, and Michael stiffens.  _ Uh oh, wrong thing to say,  _ she realizes. “Sorry, half an hour ago your Dad told me I was a miracle and it’s a lot to… take in,” she admits.

Michael takes a step forward. “He spoke to you a second time?” He asks in disbelief. The rest of the angels murmur amongst each other. “Just now?”

“Yeah,” Chloe says absently. “He told me to tell you specifically to take Lucifer off the No Fly list.” 

Michael scoffs. “That is an impossibility. Samael has Fallen. He is corrupted. You must have-”

Just then, a fire bursts to life in her fireplace. Michael pauses in shock, and one of his sisters is the first to recover. “I am Raphael,” the angel says softly. She is slight and short, with skin like porcelain and straight black hair falling to her shoulders.  _ Healer,  _ Chloe remembers from her frantic research over the past few days. “Tell us exactly what my Father said, please, Miracle.” 

“Just Chloe’s fine,” she replies, staring at the fireplace along with the rest of them. She really hopes that it’s a sign; God lighting her fireplace because He thinks her home is drafty would be the only other possibility, and Chloe refuses to descend into absurdism. “I told Him you guys thought Lucifer was evil. He asked me how to fix that mistake, and I told Him that He needed to tell you Himself. Well, Himself through me, I guess, but it’s something.” 

“Mistake?” Michael repeats. “I cast my brother from Heaven, and it was a mistake?”

Chloe swallows and takes a hesitant step forward. She finds Haniel in the crowd, and he nods to her. It gives her strength; at least one celestial being in her apartment right now has her back. “Your Father had His reasons for casting Lucifer out,” she begins, taking another step forward when Michael’s eyes meet hers. “I don’t know if I agree with Him, but it’s been over for a long time. Lucifer has been in Hell, literally and figuratively, with no love or friendship for longer than I can imagine. I can’t tell you why - I can’t get into your Dad’s head, and I really don’t want to try. But he is my friend, and he has been a good partner to me. A great one, even - the best I could’ve asked for. And God-sent or not, I can personally promise that there’s a  _ lot _ you can learn from him.”

Michael breathes deeply, holding her eyes with his for a long moment. She refuses to look away, and the whole room holds its breath. Finally, Michael nods, and Chloe can feel an odd combination of warmth and relief rush over her like a waterfall. “Thank you, Chloe Decker,” he says haltingly, “for your hospitality. I apologize, but I must take my leave.” With that, Michael’s beautiful white wings stretch the length of the room, and he is gone. 

Chloe raises an eyebrow, looking around the room. “Anyone else need to  _ take their leave? _ ” she asks, waiting for the room to be emptied. 

Instead, Raphael inches forward, stretching out her hand. Chloe takes it with not a little trepidation, allowing the angel to lead her to the couch. The angels make room for her, and she sinks into her new fluffy pillows, taking the offering of a grey blanket that a smiling angel holds out to her. She suspects it would be rude not to. Another presses a cup of something into her hands, and Chloe instinctively takes a sip, finding it to be some sort of tea. Whatever it is, it sends a rush of calm through her body, and she can feel her shoulders drop an inch. 

Raphael perches herself on nearby coffee table, leaning forward. “Chloe, would you tell us what we can learn from Samael? If it is Father’s will, it shall be done.” The rest of the angels make themselves comfortable, and Haniel sits at her side, a protective hunch to his posture that makes her feel inexplicably warm. 

Chloe can’t help but smirk at Raphael’s words. “First, call him Lucifer,” she asks, watching the thoughtful nods that echo around the room. “Next, I’ll do my best, but Lucifer - well he’s complicated. It’s gonna take awhile, and I’m not sure I can do him justice.” 

It is Cassiel who speaks for the masses: “Start at the beginning,” she offers to a chorus of affirmatives.

“Okay, well, I met Lucifer when a friend of his was murdered…” 

-

And if, hours later, when Trixie is asleep and the angels are gone, Chloe finds an old photo of her parents and studies it, wondering what they could’ve accomplished if they hadn’t had her, if maybe her father would have lived because he hadn’t gone out to get her a sandwich,  _ because she wasn’t even supposed to exist… _

Well, she reasons, ugly sobs rising in her throat, who needs to know?

-

Another week passes, and Chloe decides enough is enough. Lucifer is her partner, and the man she has been slowly falling in love with for months. If she’s strong enough to stand up to an archangel, she’s strong enough to meet the Devil on his own turf.

So she asks Maze to watch Trixie and heads to Lux on a Friday night; the line for entrance wraps around the building, but the valet takes her keys without a word and the bouncer, a huge man named Ted who loves to show her pictures of his adorable Boston Terrier, lets her in with a wink and a smile. 

She doesn’t go straight up to the penthouse, taking a moment to speak with Patrick at the bar about how Lucifer seems to be doing, and the sad smile he gives her along with a glass of her favorite red wine has her back in the elevator in seconds.

She finds Lucifer at his piano, stroking Leon Russell from the keys, singing softly. The penthouse is lit only by the bar lights and the twinkling landscape of LA, casting the Devil in a warm glow as he stares out over it like the city is his dominion. He looks surprisingly haggard; his suit is clean and pressed and his hair carefully coiffed, but his eyes are red and his hands are trembling as they caress the keys. 

_ ‘And if my words don't come together - listen to the melody, 'cause my love’s in there hiding…’ _

She makes her steps audible as she approaches him, placing her drink next to his on the hood of the piano. His voice cuts off when he hears her, swallowing the lyrics while his right hand picks up the melody. The transition is seamless, and she wonders briefly if there are pianos in Hell. It seems criminal for music to exist in the fiery pits of her imagination, but the idea of Lucifer surviving for so long without something he loves so much is just as aborrhent. 

He gives her a gentle nudge when she sits beside him, making a point to sit close enough that their bodies touch from shoulder to knee.“You’ve been avoiding me, darling,” he tells her, keeping his eyes on the horizon. 

Chloe strokes his arm in apology, and the song tapers off. “I have - I’m sorry,” she admits. “Everything that happened - well, it’s been difficult.”

“I told you that he didn’t deserve you, Detective,” he replies, voice low in a way that Chloe recognizes as the purest form of her friend - an honest, open-hearted man who has been nearly destroyed by the world. He cares so much, and she feels blessed in a way that even weekly visits from God Himself don’t make her feel to be a subject of that care. “You deserve everything.”

Chloe screws up her courage. “You mean, like a man who sings me timeless love songs even when I’ve been avoiding him?” She ventures, her voice breathless. 

She can see Lucifer’s soft smile even though he isn’t looking at her. “Something like that,” he agrees, before his expression turns solemn. “You deserve someone who doesn’t lie to you.”

_ Good thing I got rid of Pier- Cain, then,  _ she thinks, her feelings towards her ex vicious and furious in the wake of God’s revelation. “You don’t lie,” Chloe says instead, throwing their hypothetical to the wind. Sure, she’s frustrated when she thinks about all the times he omitted the truth, but her feelings are tempered by the genuine fear that she doesn’t know how she would’ve reacted if Lucifer had shown her the terrifying face she suspects, from the brief glimpses that she’s written off over the years, he has. What if she had turned him away? Or fainted, like she had with his Father? 

Lucifer just hums at her response, plucking out the melody to  _ Fly Me to the Moon _ in what she knows is an avoidance tactic. He’s not ready, she realizes with dismay, her heart dropping to her feet at the thought of pushing him too fast. “It’s okay,” she adds. “We can take our time.”

“It’s not-” He tries, before sighing deeply. “I’m the Devil, Chloe,” he admits to the swell of the music, and her heart bleeds at the utter despair in his voice. 

The air in the penthouse feels surreal, like they exist in a bubble of their own making. Part of her wants to stay here with him forever. She tries to find it within herself to tell him the truth, what she strongly suspects is holding him back: she knows, and it doesn’t matter what he has suffered or who he was when she knows who he  _ is _ . She leans against him, rubbing her cheek on his shoulder, sighing when he lifts an arm and brings her even closer.

She can’t. She can’t ruin this moment - not right now. So her revelation of ‘ _ I know _ ’ turns into a promise: “Not to me,” she swears, and his expression of awe and joy makes the not-lie worth it. He looks at her like the miracle she apparently is, lifting his other hand to her chin and guiding her lips to his. It begins as a chaste press, but it quickly dissolves into tongues and heat and a tightness in her stomach that is all too familiar when she’s around him. 

After several minutes of this, she gentles the kiss, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and just holding him. He is clearly unused to such affection; he stiffens in her embrace, breathing heavily for a moment before his arms come around her, first loosely, then like a vise. He buries his face in her neck and takes a shaky breath. 

“What do you desire?” He blurts out, mouth at the base of her ear. He is trembling against her, whether in fear or joy or anticipation she cannot tell, but she guesses it’s probably an amalgamation of all three. She would know; she’s feeling them too. “Detective - Chloe, you must tell me, because my powers have no effect on you, and I refuse to live in a world where you are unhappy.” Chloe’s heart swells, and she can’t help but hold him tighter. “And be honest: I will pull the stars from the sky if you require them.”

Chloe pulls back a little in order to shake her head, the motion out of fondness instead of her usual exasperation. “Shakespeare’s got nothing on you, babe,” she replies, smiling at the heat in his eyes at her endearment. She’s never really given one to anyone before, not to Dan or Cain, but her discomfort is worth the way that Lucifer lights up. “What I desire,” she pauses, cupping his face in her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before retreating, “is to get my partner and me another drink while he serenades me with his piano.” 

Lucifer laughs then, and it is rich and deep and earnest. “Of course, darling - you’ll find that Leon Russell has nothing on me either,” he warns her with a smirk, and as she gets up to pour them each a glass, Lucifer stretches his fingers and begins to play.

_ ‘We were alone and I was singing this song for you…’ _

He plays for her until his voice goes hoarse, walking her out and kissing her by the door of her car when the moon is waxing in the early morning hours. When she gets home, Maze is waiting on the couch.

“So you forgave him, huh?” She asks, flipping one of her knives. It spins so fast in the air that Chloe can’t even count the number of rotations before Maze catches it between her thumb and forefinger.

Chloe shakes her head. “Trixie go to sleep okay?” Maze nods. “Right. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Lucifer; I know it started because you wanted to go home.” Maze nods again, and Chloe marvels at the ease of her advice finally knowing exactly where the Hell - pun intended - that is. “Were you loved there?” She asks casually. “Do you have family there? Because you have a family here, and we love you.”

Maze sighs. “Decker,” she warns.

Chloe throws up a hand, making sure it’s her unmarked one. She’s not sure if Maze can see God’s mark, but she doesn’t really want to find out. “If your home was Hell,” she says, making sure to enunciate so Maze can hear the capitalization - can know she’s talking about the place not the feeling, “you don’t belong there. You belong here with me and Trixie and Linda - and Lucifer too. Just think about it, okay? ‘Night.”

Chloe makes for her bedroom, leaving Maze to watch her go with a thoughtful look on her face. 

-

The presence of angels in her apartment rapidly becomes the new normal, which makes her grateful that her new relationship with Lucifer is tentative enough that he hasn’t been bursting into her apartment unannounced. After all, she’s still ostensibly getting over Marcus, and the excuse is giving her time to figure out how to tell Lucifer the truth. Which is not as easy as she wants it to be. 

The Heavenly Host somehow know to avoid Maze, but they stay for Trixie, who is in awe of Lucifer’s many brothers and sisters. Gabriel shows up almost every morning, plaiting her daughter’s hair as he speaks to her about his duties as a messenger, how much he misses getting direct orders from his father. Cassiel helps Trixie with her math homework using an abacus, and Chloe gets at least two confused calls from Trixie’s teacher when she doesn’t show her work but still gets every problem perfectly correct. 

Raphael fills her apartment and her purse with bundles of herbs - ginseng and dong quai tonics and schisandra berries. When she googles them, she realizes they all have relaxing properties. Raphael just smiles serenely when she questions her, offering to lead her in breathing exercises.

And okay, she admits. They do help. 

Michael comes the least often, and Chloe suspects it is his pride that stops him. She cannot forgive him for casting Lucifer from the Silver City, and he doesn’t apologize for it, leaving an uncomfortable gulf between them. She likes when he visits with his siblings instead of alone, and she thinks he knows this; she is grateful when he begins only to visit with at least one of the others.

Her apartment fills with the softest blankets and pillows. Haniel, her one stop shop for questions about odd angel habits, tells her it is nesting behavior. Soft and sparkling items are how angels show trust and comfort and vows of protection. “You are the confidant of our Father,” he tells her as he lays on the couch, watching her make dinner. “That is enough for all angels to desire your well-being, but Chloe, simply put, we like you. You are honest and true and just.” He pauses, looking nervous, and she gestures for him to continue. “We’ve always looked… down, on humans. We loved you, but we did not respect you. You are changing us, Chloe, and it is not always a pleasant feeling.”

Chloe doesn’t know what to say to this, but when Haniel leaves, it hits her.

How can she be honest and just and true when she is defending Lucifer to his siblings, yet at the same time is refusing to be honest with him, the most important of the many celestial beings in her life? 

The next morning, she slides the sparkling ring that Gabriel gifted her onto her thumb for strength, takes a deep inhale when she sees the tiny sprigs of lavender on her kitchen table, and goes to work with the intention of confessing to Lucifer that she knows. That she accepts him. That she loves him.

Of course, that’s when it all goes to Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all liked!! and when i say things are about to go to hell, that's an understatement lol
> 
> ALSO i am not muslim. i do not know much about going to mosque. if i have misrepresented it in any way, i am SO sorry and feel free to tell me so i can change whatever details are necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back with what you all have been waiting for - lucifer finding out!
> 
> enjoy?

Charlotte is dead. Amenadiel is gone. Dan and Ella are out of contact.

The First Murderer is threatening the Devil that Chloe Decker loves. 

She steps between Pierce and Lucifer, at least ten guns trained on her, when her vision is filled with light. 

No, not light. Not lowercase. Let there be_ Light _. 

But there is no God that saves them. No, God’s army shows up instead, which is just as good as far as Chloe’s concerned.

Cain’s men are on the floor in seconds, and Cain fires hopelessly as Raguel, an angel who had been discussing the finer points of Frozen with her child only days ago, bends his gun back and shoves him to the floor. She lurches forward to help, when she is suddenly swallowed by brilliantly white feathers.

For a moment, she can’t breathe. She pushes forward, but the wings only hold her tighter, strong and familiar arms wrapping around her waist like steel bands. Only then she is aware of a voice whispering frantically in her ear. 

“Shhh, Detective, that’s it. Let me -_ stop fighting me, darling _ \- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - just please, I’m going to get you out of this, _ I promise _,” Lucifer breathes, his panic rising with every word. 

He curls himself into her, his whole body surrounding hers, clinging to her with a desperation that sends shivers down her spine. In a gust of wind, they are gone.

A second later, she feels the ground beneath her feet again, and Lucifer releases her with such reluctance that stepping away from him is painful. She spins on her heel to face him. He looks repentant, terrified, and he holds his hands up like a man begging for his life. 

There are so many things she needs to say, but the only thing that comes out of her mouth is: “We need to go back.” She strides up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist, hopping up on her toes to get better leverage. Her fingers brush the place where his second scapula meets his wing, and he shudders as she unintentionally caresses his feathers. “Take us back,” she orders, closing her eyes and preparing for the gut-wrenching sensation that is flying. 

But there is no wind that sweeps her up like it did moments ago. When she opens her eyes in confusion, raising her eyes to meet those of the Devil, he’s gaping at her like a fish. “I-” he begins, eyes fluttering closed when her fingers touch his feathers again. “I - Detective - Chloe.” 

Her eyes soften when she realizes what is happening, wanting to bang her head against the wall for allowing angels to become so normal to her that she’s treating him like nothing’s wrong.

Right. This is on her to fix.

She opens her mouth to tell him the truth, quickly, because she needs to oversee whatever justice Raguel is imparting right now. Lucifer's hands tentatively circle her back, clenching in the fabric of her sweater, an achingly hopeful look in his eye as he stares down at her in awe. 

“Lucifer, I-” 

A gust of wind, and Lucifer’s attention is gone from her like it never existed. 

She turns in his arms to see Michael - and oh _ God, _of course it’s Michael who came, when has He ever made it easy on her - striding toward them, Haniel and Chamuel, a tall, broad angel that reminds her a little of Thor in those movies that Dan likes, flanking him. “Chloe,” Michael barks. “The First Murderer awaits your judgement, for though he is due celestial justice, it is you and your offspring who have been harmed in his machinations.”

Chloe sighs, half from dread and half from relief. She really doesn’t want to look her ex-boyfriend in the eye again, but better her than a bunch of bloodthirsty angels. “Raguel hasn’t-?” 

But again, Chloe’s words are swallowed by Lucifer’s wing. He yanks her to the left, holding her against the side of his body with his elbow pressed along her spine and his large hand clasping her head to rest against his collarbone. His left wing wraps around her like a second skin, covering her from head to toe. She hears one of the others take a step forward, and a sharp growl rips through Lucifer the likes of which she has only heard on nature documentaries. She can feel it vibrating his entire body, and when she closes her eyes, she can imagine Lucifer’s lighting up crimson. 

“We mean Chloe Decker no harm,” Haniel says, and Chloe silently cheers him on, knowing it must be difficult for him to step between two archangels. 

“She is under our protection as well, Brother,” Chamuel ventures. “Look around you.” 

After the events with Pierce, Chloe had subconsciously stopped inviting Lucifer over as she had processed the existence of the divine. Even after they had reconciled, she had kept him from her home, attempting to avoid starting the apocalypse when Lucifer inevitably stumbled upon one of her frequent visitors.

Fat lot of good _ that _ did. 

She feels rather than sees Lucifer look around, taking in the blankets and flowers and soft touches of nesting. His arm tightens on her, and Chloe wiggles to get comfortable against him. She knows she’s not going anywhere until he releases her, and she’s content to set boundaries later - that is, if Lucifer can forgive her from keeping his siblings from him. She tries not to think about his reaction when he realizes that she’s been speaking to his Father.

“Tell me your purpose here,” Lucifer grinds out, and Chloe’s breath hitches at the powerful fury in his tone, “before I _ end _ you.” 

She can hear Michael shift his stance. “You are one against three, Samael. Calm yourself or we will do it for you.” 

Lucifer growls once again, taking a step forward and dragging her with him, and okay, this has to stop.

“Lucifer,” Chloe says, “Lucifer, _ look at me. _” The angel grinds to a halt, tearing his eyes away from his brothers. 

“You are not safe, Detective,” he rumbles, his voice at least an octave deeper than she’s ever heard it. “This is beyond your ken; stay behind me.” 

“Lucifer, I know,” she gasps, “you’re the Devil, they’re angels - your Father is God. I’ve known for a while - please don’t hurt them.”

“You should be asking that of us,” Michael grumbles, and she shoots him a look through Lucifer’s feathers, hoping he can sense it. 

“You’re not helping, Michael,” she retorts, and he goes silent. She turns back to Lucifer pressing her palm against his stomach to ground him. “I know who you are, Lucifer. And _ you’re not the Devil. Not to me _.”

Lucifer lets go of her in a flash of white. “How long?” He breathes.

“Lucifer-”

“How. Long.” 

She takes a deep breath. “Since Pierce broke up with me.” 

Lucifer nods, an odd, painful smile breaking out across his face. “Two months, then.” He laughs, but it is an ugly sound that makes Chloe look away. “And you’ve - what - been consorting with my siblings behind my back?”

Chloe feels a brief flash of anger. “Well, someone had to tell me the truth, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.”

For the first time, she actually sees Lucifer’s eyes flash red, but she can’t find it in herself to flinch. God’s heavenly Light had been much worse, and Lucifer is the person in this room she trusts the most. How could she ever be scared of him? “I’m _ Satan, _Detective. I punish humans. I rule Hell. People flee from me in fear,” he growls.

Chloe throws up her hands. “Well, I’m not_ people _!”

Lucifer stalks forward, and Chloe sees a wing come up to shield her. She attempts to shove it away, but it stays firm. “Would you idiots stop throwing your wings up in front of me?” She shouts, turning to glare at Haniel with fire in her eyes.

To his credit, he looks a little sheepish. “Sorry, he’s the Devil, Chloe. Habits.”

He moves to pull it back, but her vision is cleared instead when Lucifer throws him into her wall. “You will not keep her from me!” Lucifer almost roars, and it takes all of Chloe’s willpower not to flinch. He spares a crimson glance at her, clearly shocked she’s not running or cowering from him, before narrowing his eyes at his siblings. 

Michael starts forward, but Chamuel locks his arms around his brother. Chloe recalls that Lucifer and Michael are the strongest of the archangels, can see by the way that Chamuel strains that Michael’s containment will be very temporary. “If you are going to diffuse the situation, human, do it now,” Chamuel grunts, giving truth to her fears. Michael thrashes in his grip as Lucifer takes her by the arm, pulling her protectively behind him. Once he’s sure she is secured, he starts for the pair of angels, who are too busy fighting each other to see him coming.

Chloe takes one breath. Then another. 

Then she darts forward, side-stepping Lucifer and putting herself in the most dangerous place in the universe: between Satan and the angel who Felled him. 

“Stop,” she commands, and the word oozes with a strange power that she doesn’t have time to wonder about. She uses everyone’s almost imperceptible pauses to take Lucifer’s face in her hands, pulling him down to her level. She has to get through to him, and in the absence of Linda striding through that door to talk him down, she’s his best shot. Luckily, the fury that probably would’ve been directed toward her in any other circumstance is on the backburner in favor of protecting her. “I won’t tell you how I feel,” she tells him in the heavy silence that has overtaken the room, ignoring his flinch. “I won’t because I refuse to use those words as weapons. As control. But you have to know,_ you have to _.”

Lucifer keeps his eyes on hers for another second before he looks up at his brothers once more. “Get out of the way, Detective,” he orders, pulling her hands away from his face with a gentleness that doesn’t match the threat he so clearly poses. “I have been aching to punish him for eons, and you have not the power to stop me.”

But he doesn’t push her aside, and she jumps on that minuscule show of indecision. “Lucifer, Michael wronged you,” she says, ignoring Michael’s unhelpful grumbles behind her. “Your brothers and sisters stood by when He cast you out, and I’m sorry. _ I’m sorry _.” She’s crying now, and Lucifer’s watching her in fascination, like the idea that someone would be brought to tears for him is novel and unimaginable. “But Haniel is my friend. And Chamuel’s surprisingly thoughtful - he’s been the only one to actually help me deal with the fact that I almost married a mob boss. And Michael - well, Michael pisses me off a lot but that doesn’t mean you should fight him to the death. You don’t have to forgive them, but not all of them are Uriel. Not all of them are out to hurt you.” She pauses. “And those that are will have to go through me,” she vows. 

Lucifer gapes at her. “You know…” he trails off, unable to take his eyes off her. Michael and Chamuel are dead silent behind her - she hasn’t even heard Haniel stand back up, but she can’t spare a worried thought for him. Not now. 

Instead, she refuses to look away from Lucifer, knowing that they are keeping each other anchored, like they always do. She nods, sniffing. The conversation his Father and she had about Uriel had been brutal and necessary. She’s still not sure how to feel about it, an angel dying for her protection. Her deliberation had been long and intense before she at least concluded it wasn’t a crime for which the LAPD had jurisdiction, resolving that it would just have to be brought up once Lucifer and she were on the same page. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

She hears Michael shift behind her, and she prays that he keeps his opinion out of this. They’ve not spoken about Uriel, none of them have, and she suspects she won’t like what he has to say. Lucifer’s wings flare before folding at her words, and she exhales at the deliberate show of nonviolence. “You… can still look at me, knowing that? You forgive me?” His hands loosen and clench at his sides, shoulders relaxing, and his expression is so hopeful and hesitant that she has to yet again blink back tears. 

But no, she won’t be his absolution. She had been Cain’s, months ago, and it had destroyed any good in him and nearly killed her. She knows Lucifer will grow to resent her if he makes her his moral compass, so she shakes her head. “It’s not my place, Lucifer,” she cautions, “I don’t know everything - how you feel about what you did, and I’m not Linda, but I think you have to forgive yourself.” She gives him a tremulous smile then, and he watches the curve of her mouth like it’s a blessing _ and they’re really going to have to talk about this, but not now, not when everything’s so delicate. _“But I can tell you that I don’t trust you any less. I trust you more than anyone else in the world.”

A smile cracks through the tension in the room, and he tilts his head at her with affection. “Including those bastards in the Silver City?”

Chloe breathes out a shuddering laugh, and she steps forward to bring herself more into his orbit. “Yep, Heaven too - you’re my partner, Lucifer.”

Lucifer sighs, letting his eyes dart around the room before they narrow in annoyance, but she’s so relieved it’s not anger that she doesn’t care. “Your home is smothered in heavenly gifts,” he observes, the missing words _ that aren’t mine _echoing after though he doesn’t say them. He eyes the three angels behind her. “You didn’t - allow any of these cretins cover you with their wings, like I did just now, did you?” He asks. The question sounds strangely grave and important, so Chloe just shakes her head. “I - good. Good. Only me, yes?”

The meaning of the promise is lost on Chloe, but she makes it anyway. “Only you,” she swears, seeing Haniel mouth the word _ later _to her out of the corner of her eye. She is relieved to see him standing and whole. Lucifer’s eyes soften, and he cups her face in his hands, wiping half-dried tears from her cheeks. 

“Very well, my love,” Lucifer begins and _ oh Heavenly Father she must’ve agreed to more than she thought with the weird wing promise but the endearment fills her with indescribable warmth, so she supposes it doesn’t matter _ , “You will forgive me if I refuse to acknowledge my brothers who watched me Fall _ \- _and still haven’t shown any remorse whatsoever, I might add - but this one is new, and he did attempt to protect you.” He turns to Haniel, who watches him with wide eyes. “Thank you.” The words are pulled out of him like teeth, but his thumb softly caressing her jaw makes her wonder how many humbling things he would do to keep her safe. She knows she would do nearly anything to protect him, and that odd note of equality keeps her going.

Haniel puffs out his wings, and Chloe rolls her eyes. “You are welcome, Samael - Chloe has spoken well of you, and I am glad to see truth to her words.”

Lucifer eyes him. “That name is not one to which I answer,” he replies shortly, ignoring Chloe’s soft sound of frustration. “But I have no quarrel with you, so long as you do not do so again,” he continues, looking down at her briefly for approval. Chloe shakes her head at his posturing, but she can’t help but give him a small smile. He returns it before his expression settles into something decidedly more deadly. “Now, we have a murderer to attend to, darling, and I do believe punishment will prove delightful.”

Chloe reappears several seconds later in the abandoned warehouse, three angels flanking her and one behind her, gripping her waist with his wings outstretched. From the look on Cain’s face as he is brought before them by Raguel, the effect must be marvelous. 

“Chloe,” Cain pleads. “Put an end to this - this isn’t you-”

“How dare you speak her name?” Raguel hisses. “This creature is a Miracle, and it is she who decides your fate.”

Lucifer’s hands flex on her hips, and he takes an unexpected step back. Chloe looks over her shoulder, raising a brow. “You’re perfectly capable of dispensing justice on your own, my love, and my brother is for once in his life correct. As much as I’d enjoy a slow torture, he’s all yours.” The flamboyant gesticulation as he points her towards Cain is so familiar that it puts her at ease, and she turns back to the First Murderer with the Heavenly Host and the Devil himself at her back. 

She speaks, and within mere moments, her will is done. 

-

“So, Dad - he speaks to you? With actual words?”

Chloe laughs and leans back in Lucifer’s arms. “Yep - no burning bushes or anything. The actual English language.” She turns serious for a moment, craning her neck to meet his eyes. “And I’m sorry - for not telling you right away. For keeping all your siblings from you.”

Lucifer is quiet for a moment, then: “I’m not sure it would be fair of me to be upset with you for keeping a secret when I have been keeping secrets for years.”

Chloe nods. “I… understand, you know. Why you did,” she offers, and in her mind, she wanders back to that precious night sitting at his piano. Her fear of ruining the moment had kept her from telling him the truth; she can only imagine how many similar moments he has had with her.

Lucifer’s smile is self-deprecating. “I was a coward, Detective. Still am, I’m afraid.”

Chloe presses a kiss to his jaw. “Lucifer, you’re the best man I’ve ever known. I told that to your siblings and your Dad, and I meant it.”

Lucifer looks down at her, curious. “Speaking of my brothers and sisters, they just… took your word that Dad was speaking to you? Humans have been claiming such for millenia.” 

“Mmm no - I have a mark.”

Lucifer’s arms tighten around her. “He_ marked _you?” Her Devil hisses, his chest rumbling with a now familiar growl. 

After a long talk with Haniel, she’s realized that angels are fiercely possessive creatures. The blankets and jewelry and long conversations about Trixie’s safety are all designed to satisfy some deep urge all angels have to protect the people and things they care about. 

As the actual Devil, Lucifer takes it to another level. 

She had barely been able to stop him from keeping all his brothers and sisters away from her unless he was present, and even though she won that argument, she often finds him reclining on her couch, listening to her celestial conversations while reading or working on the books from Lux. With the younger ones, he’s begun to insert his own questionable, though-sometimes-actually-pretty-relevant advice, leaving Chloe to roll her eyes in the background. Many of his siblings are still wary of him, but they feel surprisingly comfortable as long as she is there. 

Their Father has managed to slip through the cracks in Lucifer’s ever watchful eye for the past few months, seeking Chloe’s updates on His children in the rare moments she’s completely alone. Though she’s sure He knows everything that has happened, He enjoys hearing Chloe tell her stories, like the time that Trixie pleaded for a Disney movie marathon and in the dark, Raphael had stepped on Michael’s wing and nearly started the Second Coming. 

“Yes, Lucifer,” she says, pulling out of her thoughts. She presents him with her palm, squeezing his arm with her other hand when he snarls his dissatisfaction. “I don’t think you can remove it, sorry.”

He looks quite peeved for a moment, before his expression curls into a smirk and he stands, swinging her up into his arms. “Well,” he purrs. “I can think of other ways to mark you, my love, if you are amenable.”

It’s not often that Chloe feels like she has no choice - Lucifer’s opinion on free will is universal and very well known, and he enjoys watching her execute her own will much more than he enjoys demanding anything of her. However, in this case, she thinks _ no _ might not be a good answer.

It’s okay. 

She enjoys all the times she gets to say _ yes _ in the next several hours without complaint.

-

Chloe wakes one night to the sound of voices in her living room. She wiggles out of Lucifer’s arms, smiling softly when they tighten before loosening. Her gun is in her bedside drawer; she takes it and looks over at her boyfriend, considers waking him, before figuring it’s probably just Maze and whatever poor victim she’s taking to bed that night.

Still, she is on guard as she slips through the door, bracing herself against the wall of the hallway before peering around the corner. 

What she sees is not at all what she expects.

“... Lucifer’s here, you know. He’s pretty good at protecting us.”

Trixie is cuddled up on the couch with the one angel she’s really struggling to get through to: Michael, who has one of his arms awkwardly wrapped around her daughter. Trixie has blankets upon blankets piled on top of her, and Chloe spares a sigh for weird angel behavior. 

“I know, child. But your mother and you are precious, and my brother is only one angel.”

Trixie puffs out her chest with pride. “He’s the _ best _angel,” she argues.

For a moment, it seems like Michael isn’t even going to question her, so assured in his dislike of Lucifer, but then: “why do you say that, Beatrice?” he blurts out in a loud whisper. “I know… Samael loves your mother,” he offers, though his tone is slightly distasteful, like he can’t understand it. “But he is rash, and violent, and he is covetous - it is an anathema for an angel to desire.”

Chloe readies herself to march out there and give him a what-for, but she stops short when Trixie replies. “I don’t know what an-the-ma means,” she begins, wrinkling her nose. “But Uncle Mike, Lucifer does a lot of things he _ doesn’t _ want to too.”

“Such as?”

“Well, he lets you guys bother Mommy a lot, even though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like you. And he goes and talks to Aunt Linda about his feelings, even though he _ hates _ talking about his feelings, but it makes him be a better person so he does it anyway. And he drives me to school and makes us pancakes with smiley faces on them even though he says it’s de-mas-cin-izing,” - here, she takes a deep breath - "and he puts bad guys in prison instead of, you know, sending them _ Home. _”

Chloe takes a shuddering breath at her daughter’s words, suddenly filled with immense gratefulness that she was blessed with such a perceptive, loyal daughter.

“And you have desires to do good, right Uncle Mike?”

“Well - I,” Michael stutters, as if just now realizing that this 10 year old human child has led him into a trap.

“So why is it so bad that Lucifer desires to do good?”

Michael is silent for a long moment, and Chloe strains forward, any guilt at eavesdropping absent in the face of the weight of the moment. 

“Beatrice,” Michael says quietly, finally, “I have been blind.”

Chloe gasps. Trixie’s hands shoot up to his face, angling his head so that she can see his features clearly. “Your eyes look okay, though!” She argues, before giggling in delight when Michael presses a firm kiss to the crown of her head.

“No, child, in guilt and contempt, I was blind,” he corrects, and Trixie looks up at him with wide eyes. “I was blind when love would have granted me Sight. Perhaps my brother was meant to be punished, perhaps not. That is between Sam and my Father. But you are right, I think. He desires to do good. To this end, desire can be an instrument of grace.” Michael sighs. “I should have seen.”

For all her loyal arguments and anecdotes, Trixie doesn’t seem to know what to do with this angelic observation, so she just puts her arms around Michael and holds him. 

Reality returns to Chloe, who begins to back up down the hallway, attempting to make it back to her bedroom without disturbing the pair on the couch. She only makes it about three feet before bumping into something solid,_ Lucifer _, who is standing there with red-rimmed eyes, staring, shocked, in the direction of the living room.

“Detective,” he whispers. “I-”

But Chloe knows. She doesn’t need any more words than the broken syllables of her title. She swipes her thumb gently underneath his eyes, causing several new tears to track onto his cheeks. He can only follow her movements, numb and still. Michael’s words have shattered something in him that was already broken, like a poorly mended bone that now - finally - has the chance to heal properly. 

She leads them back to the bedroom in silence; they stop before the bed, and he turns to her, ducking his head low. “Would you,” he tries, stopping, the words stuck in his throat. He tries again. “Chloe, would you - would you mind - holding me?”

“Lucifer,” she breathes back, only his name, and it is the deepest consent she can give. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, allowing him to collapse onto their bed with her clutched in his lap, wishing she could embrace him as tightly as he always holds her. 

She holds him through the night, and in her arms, Lucifer finds a different truth to the vulnerability she causes in him. When he is immortal and unbreakable, he can never heal; granite is difficult to break, of course, but once broken, it cannot be put back together.

Chloe makes him human - alive - breakable and mendable. The scars she rips into his heart when he is close to her, painful as they are, only make him grow back stronger. If his brother had sought understanding before he met her, Lucifer would have kicked him right back up to the Silver City. Now, forgiveness is a distant dream, but it is a dream nonetheless.

So he doesn’t let go. Instead, he prays against reason and sense and everything he has ever known about the world that she will never abandon him - for surely, when she does, her leave-taking will turn him back to stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, you guys thought i'd be done in 3 chapters? obviously you haven't met me lol
> 
> this isn't to say that michael and lucifer are in any way cool now, but there's a potential for it in maybe another 1000 years. so... yeah. 
> 
> sorry if chloe and/or lucifer didn't react how you think! you'll find they have several outstanding issues that they need to work through. both are on eggshells now, and longevity is very much on both of their minds.
> 
> plus, i think a certain someone's owed an emotional breakdown. 10 points to anyone who can guess who!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of this is inspired by the fact that i feel like a lot of people ignore chloe's trauma at the end of s3 and in s4. she has been left AND betrayed by the last two men in her life - she was really due a breakdown and a fair treatment of it, which we didn't get bc of the huge scope of her actions (which i do think she needed to seek forgiveness for). only that it really left us without ever giving her a moment of understanding for the incredible shitshow she's been put through.
> 
> ANYWAYS
> 
> i really hope you guys like this! it's a quick solve, but we need that sometimes <3

“How much of me is, well, me?” Chloe asks God as they sit on a park bench together several months later, eating ice cream, watching Trixie play tag with her friends.

God considers her question. “Are you sure you want to know, Daughter? I am not sure you will like the answer.” 

Chloe nods. “I love Lucifer - I love my friends, my daughter, my job - even my frequent angelic visitors.”

God smiles. “They love you too, my dear.”

She continues. “I don’t think anything you tell me could scare me away when I feel this happy. So I want to know - and I know it’s eating Lucifer alive.” Her partner hasn’t said anything, but Maze had finally told her about the panic attack he had right before she was poisoned. She knows it must bother him to imagine her love is pre-ordained, and the unspoken conversation hangs over them like a guillotine. One day, one of them will be brave enough to bring it up, and she prays they will come out stronger than ever.

God studies her carefully before evidently coming to a conclusion. Her ice cream is melting down her hand, so she quickly finishes it off so she can listen. “I meddled with you quite a lot, Chloe Decker,” God says finally, keeping His eyes on the children in front of them as Chloe studies Him. Chloe winces at His words; she knows that any truth He gives her is one that she’ll have to tell Lucifer, and she’s terrified of him running away. “I gave you a powerful, innate sense of justice. The strength to look upon the divine.” God pauses, looking as embarrassed as an all powerful deity possibly could. “I made you… physically attractive, as well. My son-”

Chloe can’t help but laugh through her trepidation. “No, I get it.”

God looks over at her with a softness in His eyes, though they still flicker with an unknowable power. “Daughter, he would love you no matter your appearance. I thought only to help things along.” He shakes His head at her then. “Humans! You are such marvelous creatures, and you above them all, Daughter. I created you for My son, but you are so much more than your Blessedness. And so I suppose, you are you, and I am Me, and that will have to be enough.”

“The free will You gave to us is quite something, Father,” she tells Him meaningfully, but His attention is lost. He gazes at something over her shoulder, and she follows His eyes to see the approaching figure of the man she loves. 

“Yes, Daughter. And I am close to quite a pivotal choice regarding that power, as you know,” He agrees as Lucifer’s eyes catch on Him. The Devil comes to an abrupt halt, mouth dropping open, before he begins to sprint in their direction. “That ring of his that he keeps in his pocket is quite worthy of you, my dear. I greatly hope you will invite Me to your nuptials.” 

Chloe nods without really hearing Him, before His words catch her attention. “Wait,  _ what _ \- did you just -”

She turns back to Him, but with a soft chuckle, He has gone.

Lucifer skids to a stop in front of her, looking around frantically. “Where did He go?” He snaps. “I have words for that bastard - He can’t just disappear…” He rambles on in frustration until he catches Chloe’s wide eyes and pale complexion and stops short. “What did He say to you?” He demands. “Detective, are you-”

“Are you gonna propose?” Chloe blurts out, before clasping her hands over her mouth. Lucifer just stares at her with wide eyes, frozen as he processes her words. “Oh shit, I’ve ruined it,” she mumbles around her hand. “You probably had something beautiful and romantic planned - and now your Dad makes one comment and I’ve ruined it for us both. I’m sorry, babe-”

Lucifer spends another full minute just staring at her before his eyes narrow and flash red, and he looks up at the heavens. “You bastard,” he hisses. “You reprobate - You cast me into Hell and now You ruin my proposal to the woman I love? You are the  _ worst  _ father in existence - if You think You’re getting an invitation to the wedding I sincerely hope You know You’ll be waiting another eon!” The blue sky turns abruptly grey at his words, thunder rumbling with a discordant echo. The children at the playground have all stopped in their tracks at the noise, but Chloe isn’t surprised when the LA nannies ignore the weather and the crazy man shouting at it. They probably think it’s an impromptu performance of Shakespeare in the Park. “Don’t You  _ dare _ talk back to me,” Lucifer continues at the growing storm, his voice lowering into a growl.

Chloe can’t help it. She has lived through months of barely holding it together as angels ask her advice on the philosophy of the justice system and watch Frozen for the thirtieth time with her daughter. As the actual Devil wraps himself around her by night and solves crimes with her by day. As God Himself meets her and her child for ice cream and never offers to pay. 

She loses it. 

Her laughter catches Lucifer and the entire playground area by surprise. The latter shrug and go back to playing as the sky clears, but the former actually looks concerned. She nearly falls over at the force of it, and she probably would’ve if Lucifer hadn’t caught her around the waist seconds later. 

“Detective! Det-  _ Chloe, _ are you well? Talk to me, darling - no, just breathe.  _ Breathe _ .”

Chloe does, taking in deep gasps of air. “Sorry, I’m sorry - just - gimme a minute, babe. I’m fine.” For some reason, she can’t stop the desperate breathy giggles that her throat keeps making. Moments later, the giggles turn to sobs. She misses the way Lucifer’s eyes dart from the car to Trixie as she laughs and plays with her friends, a brief moment of normalcy in her now-crazy life. He presses his lips together in thought before rolling his eyes and raising his palms in prayer.

Gabriel appears from behind a tree, wings thankfully tucked away, hurrying over when he sees Chloe in hysterics. “What-” he begins, obviously concerned as he reaches out a hand to place on Chloe’s back.

Lucifer swings her into his arms before Gabriel can touch her, arms curling around her in a familiar possessive show. His back arches; if his wings were out, they would be enclosing her, but the mere motion is enough that Gabriel takes a step back. Chloe can barely process what’s going on around her in her state, but if she could, she’d recognize the way that Lucifer holds her, like he fears she is about to disappear. It has been a joyful few months as they have settled into a routine, fitting their lives together so well that all the things they had feared seem distant and silly. 

But there are fears that cannot be solved by their day to day domestic bliss. Chloe knows that Lucifer thinks she’s temporary, and instead of telling him of her stress level, of the water rising around her, she’s stayed silent and now she is drowning. Through the panic, a distant part of her is relieved. They need to talk. And then, well, Lucifer might see that she really didn’t accept everything he was right away. Might decide she’s far too weak and leave. Might decide that she is part of a plan that he cannot abide by following. She wants to read his expression, but tears blur her vision and she can’t stop shaking.

“Gabriel, would you watch over the urchin and remove her to the Detective’s home when she is finished here? The Detective...” He trails off, eyes wandering over her with concern. Gabriel nods, waving to Trixie as he marches over to the playground. Lucifer carries her to his car. On any other day she’d complain, but her legs feel gelatinous with nerves and walking seems a distant impossibility. The ride back to Lux is silent, and it’s not until Lucifer has settled her onto the couch that he asks her if she’s okay.

“I’m fine, Lucifer, I promise,” she replies, unthinking, wincing at the thunderous expression on his face.

“Detective, I cannot abide liars,” he says stiffly. 

Chloe sighs, nodding as she stands and begins to pace. She can’t look at him, but she feels his eyes on her. “Fine, you want to know how I am?” She begins, strength returning to her as she remembers all the reasons she has to be stressed. “I don’t know! Actual, real-life angels take my daughter to school. I live with a demon. The Devil’s about to propose to me, I almost married Cain from the freaking Bible, and God - who, mind you, hasn’t said shit to anyone in millenia - suddenly thinks it’s a great idea to tell me I’m a miracle he created for his son and I guess hit me up weekly for some dubiously relevant parenting advice!”

There is a pregnant, awkward pause; after a minute, Chloe finds the courage to look over at him. Lucifer looks torn between pulling up a wall of indifference and breaking into a million pieces, and she looks away again. This whole thing is unbearable. “He told you that?” He asks, and his voice has a softness and resignation to it that is synonymous with his tone each and every time he has run away from her. 

Chloe trembles; she has so many fears, and to find that it is this one he has narrowed in on terrifies her. Memories of the penthouse covered in white sheets still haunt her dreams. “That’s not the point, Lucifer,” she says tiredly. 

“Then what is the point, Detective? If we are but puppets in some ordained, ecclesiastical plan-” He spits.

“Then what?” She cries. “_What_, Lucifer? Do you stop loving me? Do you decide you need to win some endlessly recurring argument with your Dad and run away again? The point is _I’m_ _losing my mind_ here. I can’t handle all of this on top of wondering if I’m going to wake up tomorrow to find you gone.” She turns away from him, rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t even know if I can handle all this as it is,” she whispers.

Lucifer is watching her explosion like a deer in headlights, but she can’t stop. Even if she scares him, she can’t stop now. “I love you, Lucifer. More than I ever loved Pierce, or even Dan. All anyone ever does is leave me and I don’t think I could bear it if you left me again-” she begs, lower lip wobbling as she finally spins on her heel and meets his eyes. “So just please, please. Choose.”  _ And please, let it be me, _ she prays, but not to God. Not even to the Devil. No, to the universe, to something unknowable and unfathomable, to the stars her love hung in the emptiness of space. She prays to them, because everything else is too real. Reality is killing her; right now, she wants something she can only believe in.

Lucifer is quiet for a moment, then: “I have spent countless mortal lifetimes subverting the will of my Father,” he says. “It is all I know how to do - it is in many ways, I suspect, the purpose of my existence.” She stumbles back, already shaking, silently begging him to leave before she breaks. He doesn’t allow her to go far, though, meeting her step for step. “But - I cannot live without you,” he adds, and she freezes. Her pause seems to give him strength; he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the sheer longing in the motion taking her breath away. “I would take a bullet for you, Detective. I would, without hesitation, retreat to Hell to keep you safe. Perhaps His Plan has entwined our destinies, but I find I cannot be unhappy if I am at your side.” The confession takes her breath away, and she steps even closer to him, the tears in her eyes mirroring his own. “I choose you, Chloe. In every life, in Heaven or Hell, I would choose you. Don’t you know that?”

_ You were right, Daughter, about this Free Will. It is quite beautiful, is it not?  _

God’s familiar, booming laughter flows and fades from her mind, and she  _ Knows _ .

The combination of Lucifer’s promise and his Dad’s reveal nearly strikes her dumb, but she recovers quickly. Choking on her tears and her mirth, Chloe throws herself into Lucifer’s arms. He catches her with a relieved smile and a returning rumble of deep, genuine laughter. 

“Your Dad’s a bastard,” she giggles into his chest.

Lucifer retreats, pulling back so he can meet her eyes. “Not that I disagree in the slightest, darling, but may I ask what inspired such an observation?”

“I think He set us up,” she says, and he raises an eyebrow. “I - well, I’m been trying to show Him the plus side of your whole free will argument, and we just had - call it a divine telepathy moment, I guess, but we’re free.” He watches in her disbelief, like the words are foreign to him. Like free will can only be equated with denial and it breaks her heart. “I’m not sure when, or how but he said that we’re free. And you didn’t know that, but you still chose _ me _ .” 

Lucifer ducks down and catches her lips with his, tugging on her lower lip with his teeth and pulling her in deeper. “You… spoke to Him? On my behalf?” he asks tremulously. She nods, eyes bright. “You are a miracle, Chloe,” he says forcefully. “You are… you are a  _ revelation. _ ”

She can tell that the content of her message has gone over his head. Free will has been Lucifer’s quest for so long; she can’t imagine he knows what to do with his Father presenting it to him, neatly wrapped with a bow on top. She suspects either it hasn’t sunk in, or he doubts his Father’s honesty, but she lets it slide. There will be time enough to discuss the philosophy of it all, so instead, Chloe shakes her head. “No, I’m someone who loves you,” she corrects. “People do nice things for people they love; I’m so sorry that hasn’t been your experience, babe.” 

Lucifer brushes a thumb over her jaw with a fond smile. “As you like, my darling,” he muses, and she can tell that he doesn’t agree with her, but she’s tired of arguing. He guides them to the couch, settling her along his body as he pulls her back into his arms. She presses her head into the space between his neck and shoulder, sighing as he curves around her. His body is naturally hot, like summer days at the beach, and she basks in him. “I refuse to watch you run yourself into the ground, Detective,” he warns her, and she winces at the memory of her breakdown at the park. “Perhaps we should set parameters around my siblings’ visits… and if Dad knows what’s good for Him, He will cease His forays into your head.” He says the last bit sternly at the ceiling, and Chloe gives him an affectionate nudge. 

“Thank you for choosing me,” she says quietly. “And Lucifer, I love you, but if we’re laying it all out on the table, I’m not ready to get married.”

Lucifer breaks into a teasing smile, and the whole world feels lighter. “I know that, Detective, and if I’m honest - which I always am - neither am I. I hadn’t planned on - well, anything.” He pulls her into his side, nuzzling her hair as she willingly curls into him. “I merely saw the ring, and I thought of you.”

Chloe snuggles in further, comforted by his words. “And the, um, free will thing?” She asks, cautious.

Lucifer just chuckles. “Detective, if you are right, and my Father actually relinquished some control over His playthings- which remains to be seen - then I am thrilled to make you the first subject of my freedom.” He smirks, pulling back a little. With a finger underneath her chin, he tilts her head up until her eyes meet his. “But right now, I’d like_ you_ to choose something for me.”

“Like what?” She knows he’s evading, but she goes along with it. Their fledgling relationship had just been through a lot, and they deserve a reward.

As she expected, Lucifer nods meaningfully toward the bedroom, his smile spreading into a dark and playful smirk. “Make-up sex is quite something, my love, and we haven’t had the pleasure.”

“And it’s my choice?” Chloe pretends to deliberate, giggling as Lucifer’s hands slide down her torso, sighing as his hands find her ass and orient her so that she’s straddling his thigh. 

“Mmm, but I will do my utmost to convince you to exercise your free will in my direction,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her. 

“Ugh, this is gonna be a thing with you now, isn’t it?” It doesn’t stop her from rolling her hips, smirking when his pupils dilate.    


“Better than the orgies, Detective,” he mock-whines. “Which I’ve given up quite selflessly for you, I might add,” he says, though they both know he’s far too possessive to let her anywhere near another person in that way, and doing anything without her is out of the question. They satisfy each other, and it’s more than enough. “Do we have a deal?”

She runs her nails up his shoulders before wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing the length of her torso to his. His eyes go dark, a deep red gleam flashing in the low light. The vision sends shivers down her spine. “Do you wanna shake on it?” She breathes.

“I have something else in mind,” he leers, swinging her up into his arms and stumbling for the bed. He presses her against the sheets, clothes a long lost barrier. Seconds later, brilliant white feathers appear to shield them from the outside world as they find some sort of Heaven in each other.

It is quite beautiful, He thinks, this ostensible sacrifice that His Miracle makes for His Lightbringer, but they will not have to worry. They will have both their Heavens: with each other on Earth and one day, with Him. It is Planned, and moreover, it is His Desire.

And this outcome… it isn’t quite what He intended, stepping into His miraculous human’s apartment for the first time, but He supposes it’ll have to do. After all, He’s always been intrigued by the idea of grandchildren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eeeep that's it!
> 
> i really want to thank you guys for the incredible response to this fic - being welcomed into a fandom like this is wonderful and it really makes me want to come back!
> 
> and if you ever wanna talk, follow me @queeenpersephone on tumblr and i'd love to chat <3

**Author's Note:**

> all mistakes are my own, and i'm sorry about them!!
> 
> lucifer's coming in the next chapter <3


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